


In the Dead of Night (I can’t be alone with all that’s on my mind)

by NamelesslyNightlock



Series: Going Down Swinging [86]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Hugs, Kissing, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Secret Relationship, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Needs Sleep, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27740488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: Tony’s reached his breaking point, and he’s barely holding himself together. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to cope with it all alone.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Series: Going Down Swinging [86]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1330490
Comments: 24
Kudos: 295





	In the Dead of Night (I can’t be alone with all that’s on my mind)

**Author's Note:**

> This one is based on [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQMBlFSu2QU), from which I also got the title, as well as plenty of lines that made their way into the fic.  
>   
>  **Prompt** — _“I’ll walk you home.”_

It had reached the point where everything had all become too much, and Tony was barely holding himself together. The arguing, the stress, the _fight_ – all of it had piled up until something in him had broken, and he was finding it harder and harder to just keep on going.

Everyone believed that it was Tony’s fault of course, that even though Steve had been on the wrong side of the law, of the _right thing to do_ , the world still blamed Tony for the Avengers splitting up, for the mess in Germany, for the authorities hunting down one of America’s most legendary heroes.

Of course, Tony was used to living with blame– they had been bedfellows for so very long, through his years as a weapons manufacturer, through everything that Obadiah had done, through the trials and tribulations the nation had seemingly faced when the military was forced to find a new supplier for their instruments of death.

They were all things for which Tony had been able to face the blame with grace, because he knew that he’d either had a part to play or that they were just so far off base that it wouldn’t affect him—

But to be accused of causing only hurt and death when he had actively been working towards the exact opposite, when if they had only just _listened_ to him, all of the pain could have been avoided…

That was _hard_.

Oh, he put on a brave face. He smiled and joked for the cameras, he assured Pepper that he was fine, that he didn’t need to talk about it, that it wasn’t getting to him because he knew the _truth_. But some days… he just needed to get away from it all.

Sometimes, on those days, he’d climb inside his suit and soar high for no reason other than the fact that he could, and he tried to remind himself of all that Iron Man had come to represent, relishing in the freedom that the air allowed him.

Then there were the days when the thought of getting inside that suit made him physically sick. The thought of the metal compressing his chest – even though it didn’t, really – and the thought of being trapped inside an iron coffin – even though he _wasn’t_ , really – was enough to send him walking straight past his suits and towards one of his cars. He would drive with the top down, letting the wind ruffle though his hair and feeling the sharp chill of a New York night upon his cheek. Getting out of the city would always be a hassle, but oh it would be worth it to reach those back roads, to charge through the trees and the fresh air without anything holding him back.

But that night, even the thought of going slowly out of the city set his teeth on edge and made the underside of his skin begin to itch– so instead, he simply threw on some comfortable clothes and good shoes, and then charged out of the tower on foot.

There had been a few years where Tony hadn’t been able to run, when his breaths would come too fast, when his heart would beat too quick– when he would be forced to stop after merely fifty yards or so, bent over and trying to fill lungs that hadn’t filled properly since his chest had been blown to bits.

But now… he _could_ , and the freedom running granted him was exactly what he needed in that very moment.

He didn’t tell any of the others that he was going out in the middle of the night, despite their agreed upon protocol since the public’s opinion of them had become so low. Besides, FRIDAY would keep an eye on him, and unless he got into trouble, he doubted that any of the others would care– they were all at the compound anyway, and wouldn’t be able to do anything more than what Tony could do himself.

He ran out of the tower and into the dark streets, running past the few pedestrians that were still out for a good time and the early risers looking for their first cup of coffee to kickstart a ridiculously early work day. His feet hit the pavement and his eyes stayed staring straight ahead, pausing only at roads until he made it all the way to Central Park– and then he charged forward even further.

In the park, you could almost forget, sometimes, that you were in a big city. There were areas where the trees stood tall enough to block out the buildings, and this late at night, the sound of the traffic was quiet enough to be barely there. So long as Tony kept his eyes straight ahead, he could almost imagine that he was running through a true forest, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, without another person around to disturb what little peace he could manage to find.

But, the trees came to an end all too soon, opening up onto a green where the tops of the buildings were all too easy to see. So he doubled back, his pace slowing, until he came to a bench that faced one of the smaller ponds. It was slightly wet and definitely cold, but he didn’t mind and sat on it anyway. His elbows came to his knees and his head rested in his hands, his breathing heavy as he just tried not to _think_.

It helped, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

He couldn’t look up to the sky, because although the fresh air – well, as fresh as it got in the middle of Manhattan – was a help, the thought of that open sky was almost too much to bear. Tony knew what was up there, he knew better than anyone all that could come down and shatter the peace that the planet _thought_ it had achieved.

And now, with the Avengers broken, scattered, likely to never be able to fight as one again, the threat was all too real and would likely face very little resistance.

So he rested his head and his hands and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the leaves blowing in the soft breeze, to the water lapping up against the edge of the pond. He could hear the insects busy doing whatever it is that insects do, and the quack of a single, solitary duck, still awake and making noise somewhere in the park. He tried to force away the memory of the nightmare, of everything that had happened, and tried to remember only _why_ he needed to keep going.

But god, sometimes it was so hard.

Because yeah, on those nights, everything seemed a little bit darker, a little more bleak– but surely, the fact that he felt like he was shattering meant that he was still holding on? Surely, if the only thing left was to give up, then he would simply lay down and let himself be overwhelmed rather than constantly feeling like he was on the brink of beginning to cry.

A hand suddenly touching his shoulder should have made him jolt, considering where he was– but the gesture and the touch was more than familiar, and rather than making him worry it merely brought a small amount of comfort. Tony’s breath escaped him in a long, misty exhale, and then he leaned slightly toward the body at his side.

That was all the permission his companion needed– and Tony relaxed as arms curled around him and his head came to rest on a shoulder clad in a dark green shirt. Loki didn’t say anything at first, and Tony was grateful for it. They simply leaned together, taking and giving comfort in equal measure, holding the pieces of each other together like they never would have been able to manage alone.

Tony knew that Loki found comfort in these moments as well, that what he was dealing with up in Asgard was a lot harder for him than he ever let on. He was struggling too, and yet, any time that Tony needed him, Loki was always there, always ready to help him back onto his own two feet.

It pained Tony that he couldn’t do the same for Loki, that he couldn’t jump up to Asgard whenever he knew that Loki needed him to.

They had been together for some years now, though neither of them had told anyone. It wasn’t that they were ashamed– it was just that there was always so much _wrong_ going on in their lives that they needed something to hold on to, just one good thing that could remain untarnished from everything that was happening in the rest of their lives.

They were each other’s anchor, and while putting so much of themselves on the line by relying on just the love of one person was never going to be healthy, it was the best that they had, and it was enough for them. Because just as Tony was the only one who knew what Loki was doing, Loki was the only one who knew how hard it was for Tony to keep fighting. They were the perfect match, the understood each other better than anyone else ever could. And just… whenever Loki was there, he made everything seem a little better, a little easier to handle.

They might have sat there for hours, Tony couldn’t say, but the sky was still pitch black when Loki began to shift, pulling Tony upright with him as he did so. His expression was soft, and he continued to hold Tony near like he was something precious– but not something fragile. Loki always made Tony feel like he _couldn’t_ break, reminding him of the time when Tony thought himself capable of anything, and almost making him believe that he could be again.

“Thanks Loki,” Tony said softly, holding that green gaze and meaning it with all that he was.

Loki’s smile was gentle, and his fingers gentler still as they brushed along Tony’s cheek. “You are welcome, Anthony.”

The exchange might as well have been an I love you, at least as close as they could get without saying the actual words. And when Loki leaned in to touch their lips together in the slightest of kisses, sweet and small and worth more than any that was given only in passion, Tony’s eyes fell shut and he finally lost himself to a small measure of happiness.

They lingered together a little longer, but now that he had started to relax Tony’s tiredness was beginning to make itself known. He eyes were drooping and his head had come to rest on Loki’s shoulder again when Loki gently pushed him back up.

“Come on,” Loki sighed, pulling Tony to his feet. “I’ll walk you home.”

Tony half expected Loki to teleport them back to the tower, but he was pleasantly surprised when Loki simply held his hand and began to lead the way back down the path. Despite the late (or, well, _early_ ) hour, a wave of seiðr began to pass over Loki’s body as he prepared to change his appearance.

“No,” Tony said lightly, raising his hand to cup Loki’s cheek, his thumb rubbing gently under Loki’s bright green eyes. “Don’t.”

Loki appeared hesitant, but he complied, and he remained looking like himself as they made their way back toward Tony’s tower. Tony suspected that Loki shrouded them from sight regardless, since a disgraced Avenger and a known criminal should have received at least one second take, but none of the few people still walking around in the dead of night hardly seemed to even look at them.

They walked hand in hand down the streets entirely unhindered, the darkness dogging their steps but not halting them in the slightest. But when they reached the tower, Loki seemed indecisive, his fingers curling tighter through Tony’s even though he began to step away.

But Tony didn’t want Loki to go, not for anything. With all that was going on in his mind he didn’t want to be alone, and he didn’t think that Loki wanted to be, either. So he pulled him in closer again so that they were mere inches apart, and he held Loki’s hesitant gaze as he asked—

“Will you stay?”

“For how long?” Loki’s gaze was loaded with emotion, but Tony simply squeezed Loki’s hand in reassurance. Because there was only one answer to that question that he would ever give– so long as it was Loki who was asking it.

“For as long as you want.”

Loki’s smiled turned soft at that, and Tony pressed up on his toes to touch their lips together in sweet kiss that only confirmed his promise. And when they pulled away, Loki’s voice was bright with happiness.

“Then… I shall stay.”

The words served to brighten them both, and Tony was smiling _properly_ as he began to lead Loki up to the penthouse, already looking forward to the prospect of curling together on the bed and just _resting–_ and not only for tonight, but hopefully for more nights to come. Just a simple comfort, but enough to pull Tony together and let him start the next day anew.

There was so much wrong in the world, so much darkness– but when Loki was there, Tony still felt like he was capable of pushing through and doing something good despite what the rest of the world thought of him. So long as Tony wasn’t alone with his dark thoughts, he knew that he was going to be all right—

Because so long as they stayed together, Tony knew that they could escape this night alive.


End file.
